


The various definitions of love and how to fail spectacular at proving them right or wrong

by FeatherQuill



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Romantic Fluff, Surprise Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 10:30:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19249369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeatherQuill/pseuds/FeatherQuill
Summary: In which we try to learn and understand what love is, plants are yelled at and harmless sweets are devoured before we get to the main point, if we find it.Aziraphale and Crowley are not really helping on the matter.





	1. In the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :) First and foremost, thank you for the lovely comments and kudos on my prior fic in this fandom , it really means much to me.  
> Secondly, I love, love loooove those two precious idiots and felt inspired for something longer this time around :) Feel free to let me know what you think  
> <3

Throughout history there have been many wars fought and lost or – on the victorious side, well won and mostly, well mostly – if you asked certain parties it always started the same – with a small thing in a grand universe.  
Today we have the rather curious case of love and being in love on the agenda that not started a war but was the end of a war that just wasn´t to be although desperately wanted. 

So, what is love when it can´t be measured or filled in jars for those not believing in it. Complicated. Always complicated for sure. Although that might not be the whole truth which brings us to another topic for another time concerning truths. 

It is rather simple for humans to fall in the little thing called love that is - in the grand scheme of things not so little. They meet over a spilled tea or bumping into each other in the store for example because it is planned or given a nudge by a higher authority. So One can safely say that it is made simple and the average human being is just happy and oblivious to all the surrounding facts concerning love at all. 

Adam Young, resident of lower Tadfield and former Antichrist wasn´t as oblivious as other humans to all that because he simply wasn´t a normal human boy – or hadn´t been for most of his young life. So his insight of things was quite a bit different than that of most humans when it came to most if not all of the little and not so little things going on in the universe around him. 

“You´re shitting me right, Aziraphale? Crowley and you _aren´t_ banging?”

Aziraphale for the more oblivious and human population in and around London was an odd book seller that seemed to be stuck in some weird sort of universe where the fashion sense stopped somewhere around the invention of the tartan collar. 

He was exactly how you would imagine a charming book seller if a bit odd when he talked about Wilde or Shakespeare as if he would have known them himself in person. It was odd , weird even if some people were concerned but the man had a presence that was downright angelic and telling him he was nuts somehow seemed like kicking a puppy so nobody really did it. Not because they feared Azirphale – or Mr.Ezra Fell for that matter as he liked to call himself but his friend , Mr. Crowley.

Crowley was everything Aziraphale was _not_. Not in his manners at least although he was just as odd as his counterpart. He wore wire rimmed sunglasses at every time of the year and when somebody mentioned it he just raised one of his eyebrows and said nothing. It was enough to make grown man cry. Literally so when he visited the garden centre and complained that the begonias he had purchased where a whiny bunch of losers and how dared poor intern Paddy Jenkins sell them to him when he bloody well would have known that it wasn´t what he had expected. Also, his fashion sense was up to date as far black would ever go out of style, or the snake skin boots. The only thing that seemed slightly out of style was his Bentley but nobody commented on that either because one delinquent had vandalized the automobile with paint the lad was found strung upside down and naked from the London Eye, screaming his lungs out. 

Not that there was a thing that could be traced back to Crowley who at the time was dining at the Ritz with Aziraphale who had seemed glum at that particular dinner but otherwise it was like every time they were seen together. There were not many days they were separated since the end of the world that wasn´t, which brings us back to Adam Young who knew the truth about the both of them.

The truth being that Aziraphale indeed was an Angel who had been issued with a flaming sword but given it to Adam and Eve so that they could defend themselves and Crowley a Demon who could transform into a snake and the reason for his glasses were his yellow snake like eyes. So he also knew that they had known each other for six thousand years and were best friends who had done some incredibly stupid things to save the others hide. All of this brings us to the present into a little bookshop in Soho where a blushing Angel was in the midst of picking up the pieces of the cup of tea he had just dropped on the floor.

“I beg your pardon?”

Adam only rolled his eyes in a very impressive way before loudly popping the gum he wasn´t really chewing in the last half hour which made Aziraphale itch to hand him a napkin so he could get rid of it and wouldn´t ruin his teeth – it wouldn´t be a miracle but a small good deed and that to count for something, he mused while still trying and failing to get his sputtering under control. He refrained barely, watching the boy in front of him with a still flustered expression which was an default for the Angel in itself whenever it came to matters he was not comfortable with which seemed to be anything but books.

“You know, shagging – doing the deed, the birds and the bees?”

Aziraphale merely blinked, willing himself to think of the first Editions he had purchased in the last two thousand years and taking a breath which an Angel as such didn´t really need before swallowing around the uncomfortable urge which had nothing to do with his utterly racing thoughts or so he tried to tell himself but Angels were by default also lousy liars. 

“You mean...”

The universe is a marvelous thing that allows many things to happen at once – for example the various conversations about love or the more carnal aspects of it which aren´t really frowned upon but also largely aren´t much discussed in the open. 

Now the universe since it´s beginning also has a way of being funny. At this fine present day just at the time at which in his bookshop in Soho Aziraphale finally hands Adam Young the napkin due to the fact he came upon one of the rare occasions where he didn´t find words something else entirely but yet the same happens in the flat of one Anthony J. Crowley in Mayfair, only as stated before different. 

Pippin Galadriel Moonchild also known as Pepper stood before the aforementioned Demon whose houseplants quaked in an almost otherworldly mixture of terror and laughter (the same thing had happened to Crowley when he first had seen Aziraphale dance and they hadn´t spoken for sixty five years , fifteen days , twenty minutes and six seconds – not that Crowley had counted. ).  
Pepper wasn´t as, lets put it this way – modest as Adam in her questioning on the matter that had come up between the two of them out of boredom as it often was the matter with children in between being children and awkward teenagers.

“The fuck you just said?”

Crowley also wasn´t as modest as Aziraphale but Pepper herself didn´t mind and ignored the odd hissing sound that emitted from him along with his glowing yellow eyes. She merely gave a snort for she apparently had had her fair share of hell with her given name and thus had sworn to let it rain down on anyone who dared to call her by it. This also was most certainly the only reason why she still was in one piece and not turned into a mouse which Crowley would have had no problem in snacking on. 

“Fucking. You and Aziraphale. You are, aren´t you?”

Demons weren´t made to be delicate or have the gift of tact. It might count as a minor miracle or mayor one depending on the viewpoint that Crowley did was put down his plant mister, turning on his heels.

“Are you drunk?”

The most annoying thing about love since this is our subject and we shall come back to it for the moment is also that it often isn´t recognized and if love itself were to be a person it surely would carry a sledgehammer with itself for getting the statement across. 

“I am eleven.”

Pepper stated in the same tone as any self respecting eleven year old with an attitude would before looking up at Crowley. 

Thus and without further ado or accurate prophecies from not so long forgotten witches something far more pressing than the impending end of all things is likewise on the mind of two creatures that had so far walked the earth longer than any bookseller or plant lover. The universe could be funny indeed.


	2. The second time around

Love itself has been around since the beginning of time and before that - according to Crowley this had simply to do with the fact that humans were morons and took forever mastering the ability to write and count or master anything at all while Aziraphale kindly yet firmly disagreed.   
It naturally hadn´t to do anything with the predicament Crowley and Aziraphale found themselves in fifty six days and two hours after being confronted by two very special children. While Angels were still lousy liars Demons were perfect in denial. 

When we look at the facts again, if there are any facts that can be universally applied to love itself the one and simple universal fact is that it causes the most idiotic decisions to be made - no way to mince it really.   
Idiotic decisions for humans are one thing but for Angels and Demons the meaning of idiotic decisions can quite literally be catastrophic to the human world. 

“S´ss not right, angel! They and their gab-blatter-whatsever they say we do ya know. Think we should turn them into bullfrogs.”

Crowley, feared demon – tempter of the innocent and terror of houseplants across the world slurred from his current position which at this moment in time happened to be located in a rather decadent hotel suite in Paris , France.   
Said position would have the human population trying to get back into shape with something called yoga seething with envy for the demon was lying prone on his back on a plush carpet, clad only in his favored pair of underwear arms outstretched at his side while his fingers itched for the bottle of scotch currently just out of his reach. 

The position which one could call awkward at best in terms of human anatomy (back pains and the like to follow for sure an achievement claimed by hell) was only completed by the ginger haired demons booted feet crossed about his ankles over the back of the expensive sofa smack in the middle of the suite.  
Aziraphale, angel of the eastern gate and not so feared but well respected for following his orders (most of the time) blinked his angelic blue eyes at shining yellow ones and pouted. 

“Don´t you l-like me anymore my Dear? I mean, is it the wardrobe or ..that that.. whatever it is.”

He sniffed into his glass of wine before turning his head away from where he was perched next to Crowley on the carpet which was rather pointless because Crowley wouldn´t have been Crowley if he wouldn´t get his point across. He was a demon after all, wasn´t he.

 

“Fuck no, angel. I want to jump your bones is my problem but I don´t want to see the smug expression on the brats face once she finds out she is right.”

Demons also weren´t known for being subtle. Angels on the other hand were the epitome of just that which could explain the rather unnatural redness of Aziraphales face he wasn´t even able to miracle away.  
Apparently all other angels would have spread their wings and taken flight at this point but Aziraphale wasn´t like all other angels and if we were to be honest he would never be. No other angel would get drunk – or in this case royally hammered with a demon in Paris. As to why that came to be we have to get back in time a bit, to be precise we need to go back in time fifty six days and two hours, firstly to a bookshop in Soho

 

_  
Adam Young isn´t stupid nor will he ever be in his adult life, which is another story for another time.  
So he understands what he is saying and so does Aziraphale while still trying to get his bearings together and mourning his spilled tea just watches silently on as the boy who hadn´t ended the world looked on like any boy running out of patience would._

_“Well..no. No we aren´t...we – we are friends.”_

_Adam snorted so loudly that the angel secretly waited for him to breathe fire. Old habits died hard as the saying goes , especially for angels._

_“Friends don´t look at each other like that.”_

_Friends indeed didn´t look at each other like that but most friends were also human and well aware of how they felt towards each other with being not pressed into human forms to contain a cosmic being other than Crowley and Aziraphale. Aziraphale who at that moment eyed his liqueur cabinet longingly before gulping and wringing his hands._

_“So if I would have an rather not so friendly interest in Crowley in theory of course...what , what would..I do to make him realize such a thing?Theoretically.”_

_Theoretically Adam wondered at this point how even angels could be stupid._

_“My dad said he took mum to Paris once because it would be the perfect city for that sort of thing. Whatever that means. I guess he meant the whole package, you know but thinks I am too young to understand. Bollocks”_

_Aziraphale wants to object to swearing around his books but the poor things had endured much more with Crowleys recent and increasing visits it wasn´t that bad he supposed._

_“Paris is rather lovely.”_

_As an angel he also was fairly oblivious to the smugness which crossed the no more Antichrist´s face sitting in his shop while he pondered on all the marvelous places he could invite Crowley to for lunch, dinner or breakfast._

__

While Love itself alone is powerful when felt by only one of two parties involved it is more powerful when felt by two individuals – if they are cosmic beings or not isn´t of import. Important might be the fact that at the time Adam did his part of the plan that Pepper and him had hedged out of boredom and because to quote Pepper _to finally get those idiots together to stop their whining_ her approach towards Crowley was a tad different. Perhaps a lot different.

 

__

_“Paris? What the bloody hell should I take him to Paris for? Are you sure you aren´t really drunk child?”_

_Pepper rolled her eyes and Crowley had to give it to her – the girl wasn´t afraid of hell and she wouldn´t be afraid of him, no matter how much his plants quivered in his flat behind and around them, so he let her talk for now._

_“You say you are friends – you and him. You get smashed together, you eat together but you don´t fuck. That you want nothing from Aziraphale than that, right?”_

_Well, they don´t but it is not a thing he will discuss with someone that isn´t older than his favourite pair of shoes so he just shrugs glancing at his bottle of Scotch before forgoing the glass and chugging straight from the bottle._

_“Yeah so?”_

_Pepper often wonders if men in general, demonic, angelic or human are just morons that need a written billboard to understand things the first time around._

_“Well, if you are so sure, why don´t you prove it – invite him to Paris, friendly outing in the city of love. Or are you not demonic enough to have the balls to do that, Crowley?”_

_Crowley growled and picked up his phone. Paris it was. Pepper grinned proudly to herself. Men were easy – she always had known that._

__

Presently all this had led to two very drunk celestial beings sprawled out on the carpet of a ridiculously overpriced hotel room in Paris, city of love doing absolutely nothing than staring at each other, pondering if they were or weren´t in love with each other while Love somewhere in the universe, if it would be in possession of a body would quietly sit in a corner and weep about the idiocy of it all.


	3. And finally the curtain fell

There were moments in time when things came together that couldn´t possibly be -circumstantial. The small things that were such a coincidence that they weren´t. Carefully crafted and planned. Normally that was the job of angels and demons and not two eleven year old children but then again circumstances sometimes needed to be tweaked a little bit and nobody really was against that sort of thing as long as it didn´t trigger another end of the world situation which had all parties excited only to not happen. The paperwork alone wasn´t worth the trouble.

No war is about to start in Paris, France presently. It was a bright and early morning which found a very odd couple in an even more odd position. 

“Angel?”

Crowley´s voice had the charming sound of someone who had gargled rocks or in his case just had drank away what would have killed any human. His companion wasn´t in better shape to be fair. Aziraphale made a noise in the back of his throat before turning on his sore back not entirely sure if he ever wanted to move again.

“Yes, Dear?”

An awkward silence descended upon the room. The kind of silence that only came over a room before something happened. Something should happen when that happens because otherwise it would be pointless and the suspense which had been built would go to waste, which would be a shame.

“Is it working?”

The wonderful and equally terrifying thing about consuming copious amounts of alcohol is that while becoming braver it does nothing for the memory accomplished before the consummation.  
Celestial beings might have been slow when it came to understanding metaphors but Aziraphale wasn´t one of those and so he knew what had happened in the hours before dawn Those hours were for simple reasons called magical if you cared to looked upon them. 

“I am afraid it isn´t.”

Crowley sighed but shook his head were it no longer rested on a fancy but over time uncomfortable carpet. Instead no longer stylish coiffed ginger curls rested on a white, fluffy pillow and yellow eyes wearily searched equally weary blue ones.

“Does it matter?”

Aziraphale thought about it. It didn´t matter that they both were a bit miffed once they found out that they had been played by two children. Crowley still felt the urge to turn them into something that crawled but refrained in favor of remembering how it came to be that he was lying in a bed with an angel. Lifting the sheet which covered them both it confirmed two things Crowley already knew. They were both bare ass naked and Aziraphale could indeed scream to high heaven if given the right reason. He dearly hoped Gabriel, the pompous bastard heard it. 

Love was strange and it had an even stranger timing when finally bursting free. In this case it did so six hours ago and neither of them knows how it started. The universe however did.  
 _  
“I don´t even like you Crowley!”_

_Angels were as we already knew lousy liars but Aziraphale was the worst liar when it came to Crowley. Crowley who had the gift to read the angel like one his beloved books so he did what he did best. He protested while filling up their glasses._

_“You do. You love me!”_

_They had briefly sobered up to discuss what would be the next step, the angel trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had lied and to convince Crowley not to turn Pepper and Adam into bugs or something else ridiculous. He stared longingly at his wine before frowning down at himself. Ah yes, they had at some point shed their clothes because it was too hot in the room which he blamed on Crowley and Crowley just shrugged a lewd comment on the tip of his tongue but refusing to slip out because_

_“Are those from the fifties?”_

_Aziraphale had the grace to blush at that refusing to be ashamed - he liked his wardrobe the way it was, thank you very much._

_“Are those silk?”_

_Crowley grinned._

_“Wouldn´t you like to know.”_

_Oh Heavens, he did._

__

“I can´t believe it.”

Crowley raised one fine eyebrow at the angry tone Aziraphale had for he had never really heard the angel sound angry before.

“What? We still can go for crepes later.”

The blonde shook his head, curls flying wildly about.

“We are naked. We lie in a bed together. A demon and an angel.”

Facts Crowley was very aware of as he was about the fact that they hadn´t done anything but strip and crawl into bed because Aziraphale was fascinated with his clothes. Love also included irony it seemed. He also knew now that angels, while not needing sleep could hog covers and didn´t rest in one position while demons could, if allowed.

“Yeah, so?”

Blue eyes blinked at him.

“We didn´t even kiss! For fuck´s sake, I know you are not in love with me but not one kiss? Your entire point of being here is to prove that you are not loving me, which I might add is quite painful in retrospect and not working but...”

Whatever else he wanted to say was cut short by Crowley who decided that there had been enough talking for the last six thousand years between them so he leaned in and planted a kiss right on the stunned angels lips, forked tongue slipping between plush lips. There wasn´t need for him to say anything when they finally kissed like lovers would do and there wasn´t anything that needed to be said when both of them finally learned that there was more to it than what their sides had wanted. Sides that did not matter anymore.

The thing about love is, it knows no time, no space when skin slips against skin and sweet nothings are uttered as far as they can be uttered between angels and demons. It just is -maddening, wonderful, a little dangerous perhaps but worth it. More than a war that wouldn´t be.  
It isn´t the act itself that defines love, it is what comes after for there are differences between love and lust.

It´s just a wrong assumption as well that love needs to be put into grand words when all it takes is for example the linking of hands or a kiss pressed to a mop of unruly blonde curls while two bodies rest peacefully next to each other.

“Crepes. We should go for crepes again, darling.”

Might be what Aziraphale said out loud but what he was really thinking was _Yes, I know you love me, you don´t need it you stubborn bastard -it´s quite alright._

“Yeah, yeah. And I still want to turn those brats into bullfrogs or spiders. Something that crawls but first crepes.”

Might be what Crowley said out but what he was really thinking was _Hell, we´re aren´t going to live that down when we return home. Maybe we should get a place together, nice little cottage. And I need to gift those meddling brats a houseplant each. “_

Throughout history there have been many wars fought and lost or – on the victorious side, well won and mostly, well mostly – if you asked certain parties it always started the same – with a small thing in a grand universe. Sometimes it just didn´t matter.

****

**End**


End file.
